#but this is So Much Worse

[pied-piper-pluto]

im the saddest wettest beast in the world (has to be at jury duty on new dungeon meshi episode day)

[poorparentsteenagedaughter]

the one time i don’t supervise her and she immediately gets injured

[comraderaccoon]

They put the little alien corpses in tiny coffins, for dramatic effect and respect. Which is by far the goofiest thing I've seen in a long time.

Then we find out the alien corpses are made out of a hodgepodge of chopped up human and animal remains.

This unboxing went so wrong so fast.

[ow1et]

what kind of tragedy are you ?

self - inflicted .        you were given the choice to live, a thousand times over, and yet you never choose it. not intentionally, oh no, you didn’t know it was a grave you were digging. but with every turn, you were twisting the knife deeper. every decision doomed you more. had it been anyone else, they would have made it. but you? you are so perfectly you, there was no escaping it. the true tragedy of it all, is how preventable it was.

tagged: @ofsoul <3 tagging: steal it and tag me!

[iheartnimbassacity]

bell didnt come home last night

i hope its because they know they fucked up, not that they are passed out on top of a fucking tower drunk

[delicatefury]

I come with worse news.

Illumination is no longer involved. Rather, the movie is going to be…

Live action.

From ScreenRant

“Nintendo has teamed up with Sony, producer Avi Arad, and director Wes Ball to bring the project [The Legend of Zelda] to life, with fans crossing their fingers that the film will be a hit.”

Sony. AKA one of Nintendo’s biggest rivals.

Avi Arad. Who brought us live action hits like: Ghost in the Shell, Uncharted, and Morbius.

Wes Ball. He directed the Maze Runner movies. That’s all I got. I mean that’s literally it. Apparently he’s a special effects and art guy, so maybe he’ll understand the grandeur Hyrule and it’s temples deserve.

But I did some IMDB digging and found the writer…

Derek Connolly.

While he has the credit for the Detective Pikachu and Kong:Skull Island screenplays under his belt, he’s best known as the story co-writer for the Jurassic World movies and…

Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker.

I am very, very afraid.

this summer...

everyone's favorite knight...

is coming to the big screen

*cuts to Ganondorf voiced by Steve Carell* What a bummer!

*Ke$ha starts playing* WAKE UP IN THE MORNING FEELING LIKE IM P DIDDY

*Link wakes up giddy for the moning as Zelda tells him he needs to help her save Hyrule, his alarm is still going off and he can't hear her, the camera pans to his bedroom that is decked out in posters of Korok clinging to a branch that say “hang in there” and assorted references, Zelda clears her throat loudly*

"I SAID… you are to assist me with saving Hyrule!"

Link, voiced by Jim Parsons "Well, EXCUUUSE ME Princess...”

one knight will find himself

Link "what?! the Triforce of Power?"

and maybe a Legendary Sword

Link "and that Ganondorf has it?”

but first he has to find his courage

Ganondorf: "It’s not a snuggie!"

*turns to a group of bokoblins* "does this cloak make my butt look big?”

*the bokoblins all shake their head in sync*

and the wisdom...

Zelda, voiced by Emma Roberts "all I want to do is seal Ganon but this GREEN DORK" *punches Link in the shoulder* "KEEPS GETTING DISTRACTED”

this summer is going to be

*montage of slap stick*

*Ganondorf twerking*

Link "aaawkward"

this summer is going to be...

*dance party ending montage that takes place in Castle Town and shows Ganondorf as a ghost sealed away in a cartoonist ghost cage*

*Impa doing the whip & nae nae*

"LIIIIIIIIT"

THIS SUMMER IS GOING TO BE...!

*montage of every time they say "legendary" in the movie*

LEGENDARY

The Legend of Zelda.

Link, off screen "heeey, why don't I get to be in the title?!"

[aropride]

[doom-dreaming]

"when i was your age, i was working three jobs to help support my family" and "when i was in college i was sleeping on a mattress on the floor and living off of soup"

YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO DO THAT. NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO DO THAT. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN TO YOU THAT THIS ISN'T A CHARACTER-BUILDING LESSON, IT'S JUST BAD

[uncanny-tranny]

Not to sound like a person who actually cares about children, but it's so alarming that there's this tendency and trend of not telling kids about their medical conditions that are in their charts.

I'm finding out as an adult that they (though it's not documented who) diagnosed me with a life-long, chronic condition without telling me when I was a teenager. I found out recently when I got curious about my medical charts, and otherwise, I would not have known what's wrong with me. I've been left with more questions than answers, and I feel like a private investigator investigating my own damn health and life.

Is this medical malpractice? Yes. However, I think it also speaks to a broader point of how children are seen to not be entitled to their own lives in any capacity, to the point where they are (intentionally or not) made ignorant about things that are or will affect them.

[iserlohndiary]

situational irony is when you vote, for two terms, a presidential candidate who 1) was a beloved mayor and 2) does not come from an old political elite family, just for him to create his own political dynasty, using his former mayoral seat as a rung for his own son who is now set to be the next vice president

also why this incumbent was so widely supported was in part fueled by the fact that his rival in both elections were a pig-headed former general with a long history of unresolved human rights violations

and now, that general is going to be the next president, thanks to the support of his former rival

[chloesimaginationthings]

Michael can survive (almost) anything in FNAF

[marvelsmostwanted]

[eyes-of-nine]

pls assume i'm thinking about this moment 24/7 all week every week

[tojisun]

god you just know simon likes it messy. he likes it when you're a drooling, crying mess; hiccupping once in a while because it's so hard to breathe when you're plugged with his cock. he loves holding a heavy hand on the back of your head and forcing you to stay still with his cock down your throat. you're more subdued now, used to his width, but his thighs are full of angry welts from when you were scratching him, trying to pull away. spit bubbles from the corner of your mouth where your lips are left as tight rings, swollen and bruised when simon used you like a toy, bullying all of himself in.

and thing is, he'd be so quiet throughout. ever so watching, attentive and tactile, but quiet. like a hunter stalking.

[boysborntodie]

TUA S4 proved that Netflix cancelling their shows after the first season is actually a good thing

[muffinlance]

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.